


For Want of a Nail

by inukagome15



Series: The Last Archangel [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 08, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, Family, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15/pseuds/inukagome15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to Gabriel's timely interference when Dean and Castiel challenge Dick Roman, they never go to purgatory. How does this change the events of the upcoming year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is very short. Marvelously short. It’s so short it’s a little over 4,700 words. As for the title...I don't have any better ideas... Maybe something else will come to me...  
> It's a prompt fill for wind-in-the-wire on tumblr, who asked for Dean's and Castiel's reactions to Gabriel's order that they kiss and have sexytimes.
> 
> So…this is the beginning of my alternate season 8. Consider it a prologue if you will. I’ve yet to watch the rest of the seasons, and I need to if I’m ever to write the rest of this and the actual sequel.  
> Knowledge of The Last Archangel is not necessary to understand what's going on here, but it sure would help to know why the hell Gabriel is alive.
> 
> But well…anyway…I hope you like this. I’m still accepting prompts through the rest of this week. I promise my profile is safe and my [askbox](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/ask) will not give you any viruses. I accept prompts for anything that I'm familiar with, including additions to existing series and stories.

Dean and Castiel had discarded a dozen Dick Romans before coming across the real one in his office. Dean had no idea where Sam was, but he trusted his younger brother to come back in one piece. In any case, they couldn’t afford to wait.

Not bothering to conceal their presence, Dean opened the door and walked in, hand itching to grab the bone and just stab Dick. But they had a plan, and he needed to stick to it. They only had one shot.

“Oh my.” Dick didn’t look at all surprised to see them. He pushed his chair back, standing up. “Do come in.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” Dean said, staring him down.

Dick looked right past Dean and at Castiel, a small smile playing at his lips. “Castiel. Good to see you again.” He smirked. “Thanks for the ride into paradise.”

Castiel said nothing, but Dean could practically feel the ice pouring off the angel. Reaching into his leather jacket, he slowly pulled out the fake bone they’d appropriated for the plan, rolling it around in his hands.

“Good on you,” Dick said, not looking at all bothered by the weapon. “Pulling that together? A-plus.”

The smug superiority radiating off Dick riled Dean up. Hand tightening around the bone, he stepped closer to Dick. “Oh, you don’t think this’ll work, do you?” Dick’s smile didn’t waver as Dean came up close to him. “You trust that demon?”

“You sure I’m even me, Dean?” Dick asked.

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head. “But  _he_  is.” He nodded his head back at Castiel. “See, here’s the thing with Crowley. He will  _always_  find a way to bone you.”

Now the smile dropped off Dick’s face, and such a sight had never been so pleasant before to Dean – never mind that it most likely heralded a world of pain. “This meeting’s over.”

The Leviathan in a meat suit took a threatening step forward, and Castiel threw an arm across Dean’s chest, about to engage Dick, but then a loud thump and an audible flutter of wings drew their attention.

Everyone froze, turning to stare at the newcomer sprawled on the floor. Dean had no idea who it was, but the man was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and jeans. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes flickered around the room, taking the entire sight in; a neatly trimmed goatee framed his face.

Dean opened his mouth, about to demand answers, when the new guy beamed and said, “What a marvelous surprise!” He jumped to his feet with inhuman grace, stepping around a visibly perplexed Dick. “I didn’t expect to end up here.”

Fingers tightening around the bone, Dean demanded, “Who are you?”

“Ah, Dean-o, I’ve missed your ugly mug.” The man pinched Dean’s cheek before he could flinch. “And Castiel!” He had a broad grin on his face as he turned to the angel.

Castiel’s eyes flickered over the strange man before he said, sounding utterly gobsmacked, “Gabriel. You’re alive?”

“This is  _Gabriel_?” Dean asked disbelievingly. No way this guy was Gabriel – Gabriel the  _archangel_  – the same Gabriel who had caused them so much grief before Lucifer had gone and killed him.

“Don’t sound like you’ve missed me or anything,” the supposed-Gabriel fired back. He turned to face Dick, waggling his eyebrows meaningfully. “Yo. I think you have something of mine?”

“It isn’t yours.” And Dick  _bared his teeth_. Nothing they had done had ever elicited such a primal reaction from the Leviathan before.

“Oh, sorry. Should I forget the part where your cronies snuck into Asgard and  _stole_  it? From  _my_  universe?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean would’ve crushed the bone by now if it was possible.

“Nothing much.” Only Gabriel could imbue his words with such a level of condescension. He moved over to an ugly portrait and pulled it open, revealing a safe. Fiddling with the dial, he continued speaking lazily, “This safe is pitiful, by the way. I could design better in my sleep.”

The statement struck Dean as odd for a few seconds before his attention was caught by Dick moving forward threateningly. He caught the Leviathan’s eye and gestured menacingly with the bone – fake as it was.

Dick stopped for all of a second before snarling and whipping his arm around to throw Dean clear across the room, slamming him against the wall.

Lumbering clumsily to his feet, Dean blinked at the sword that was now in Gabriel’s hand. “I don’t think so,” the archangel said warningly. “Any closer and your head will be off so quickly you won’t even have time to breathe.” The safe clicked a moment later, the door swinging open to let out a soft blue glow.

“Hello, darling,” Gabriel drawled, reaching in and plucking out a glowing blue cube before he wrapped his hand around it and it vanished.

Fucking angels.

Dick twitched, but any further movement was halted by Castiel holding his own blade to his neck – surprising considering his earlier vehemence on not wanting to fight anymore. “Don’t move, Dick.”

“Growing a spine, are we?” Dick sneered, eyes flickering over to Castiel’s impassive face.

“Your name’s Dick?” Gabriel blurted out, bursting into peals of laughter. “Oh Father,  _seriously_?  _Dick_?”

For all of Gabriel’s faults, his sense of humor was one thing that Dean had always reluctantly admired. It was nice to see that despite his change in vessel that one thing hadn’t changed.

Dick didn’t seem amused by Gabriel’s ribbing. “Very amusing, I know.” His face twisted; he didn’t seem at all bothered by the blade still hovering at his neck. “Now what are you going to do? You can’t kill me.”

Gabriel sobered quicker than Dean expected, his smile ice cold. “D’you wanna bet on that?” He sidled up to Dick, smile sharp as a knife. “I’m Gabriel.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Archangel. There’s a difference, Dicky-boy.” Gabriel flashed some teeth. “We were designed for you. Doesn’t that make you feel special?”

Dean shared a glance with Castiel, who didn’t seem to have any better idea of what was going on. Designed for the Leviathans?

Dick didn’t seem worried. “There were four, now there is only one. You really think you can stop all of us? There are thousands—”

“Oh no.” Gabriel’s smile was merciless. “Just you for now. Take the head, the rest will follow, I figure. Besides, Dean’s got this handled, I think.” The unexpected statement of confidence had Dean blinking in surprise even as he walked up behind Castiel, swapping the fake bone for the real one.

Still, it wouldn’t pay to show it. “I do,” he agreed.

“’Bout that bone,” Gabriel said casually, “you probably don’t want to be anywhere near Dick when you use it.” He shrugged in response to the confused looks that garnered. “One way trip to purgatory.”

Dean glanced down at the bone in horror. “What. Cas, you didn’t tell us that.”

Castiel didn’t even have the decency to look at him. “I didn’t know about it.”

Granted, it had been Bobby who had given Dean and Sam the instructions for how to get the Leviathan-killing weapon, but Castiel was an  _angel_. He should’ve known if using such a weapon would result in sending the wielder to  _purgatory_.

“Not many do,” Gabriel said, and that made Dean feel  _so_  much better. Had Crowley known? “One move, Dick, and you’re gone.”

“You can’t destroy me.” Dick still sounding so supremely confident really made Dean want to kick his ass.

Gabriel didn’t seem perturbed, his smile cool as his eyes rested on Dick. “Eyes closed, Dean. Wouldn’t want to burn those pretty eyes out, do we.”

Well aware of what angels could do to humans, Dean slammed his eyes shut and threw his arms over his head, ducking his chin the moment blinding white light filled the room. Even though his eyes were shut and his arms were in the way, the light pierced through his lids and  _burned_.

The room shook and the air vibrated furiously. There were loud popping noises, and sharp electricity scattered across Dean, drawing out a surprised cry before he could stop it. He huddled further before he felt a familiar form shield him – Castiel.

Something nearly threw him over onto the floor – only Castiel’s arm around his shoulders kept him upright.

His ears pounded and his eyes burned, and it took too long before the light finally faded and it was completely dark.

Feeling Castiel minutely shift, Dean lowered his arms, blinking furiously to get the spots out of his vision. He saw Dick flat on the floor, eyes black holes. Gabriel looked none the worse for the wear for doing something no other angel had been able to.

“That’s that,” Gabriel said in a quiet tone uncharacteristic of what Dean knew of him. “I’ll be taking care of the rest here, Dean-o. You good now?”

No, Dean was  _not_  good. He was confused as hell and pissed. “What are you  _doing_  here?” he demanded furiously. “You were dead!”

If Gabriel had been alive all this time, then why hadn’t he helped out? Why hadn’t he helped out when heaven had torn itself apart in a civil war that had nearly cost Dean Castiel? Why hadn’t he helped out  _before_  purgatory had been opened by a demon and angel in cahoots?

For a moment Gabriel actually looked like he was going to give a flippant answer before he gave the question some serious thought. “Yeah, okay, I was,” he eventually admitted. “Only then I ended up somewhere else. Now I’m here.” He grinned broadly, spreading his arms wide. “But I’ll be leaving to go back.”

Before Dean could ask what the hell he meant by that cryptic bullshit, Castiel asked, “Heaven?”

“No.” Gabriel tilted his head in thought. “Or maybe, yeah. But just for a quick refresher. I’ve got work.”

“It isn’t the same,” Castiel warned.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be.” Gabriel reached out to touch Castiel’s shoulder, something that Dean had  _never_  seen him do before. Throwing Castiel up against a wall, yes, but touching him like an older brother would a younger?

Castiel exhaled in shock, eyes widening. “Gabriel?”

“Feel better?” Gabriel smiled crookedly, dropping his hand.

Dean whipped his head between the two, alarmed. “What did you do?”

“Just a little healing energy,” Gabriel answered, not making Dean feel any better. “Now, probably won’t see you guys anytime soon, but I’ll tell you to get your heads out of your asses and just confess.”

This was a curveball.

“What?” Dean asked at the same time Castiel did.

“No, you seriously can’t be this dense.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “It’s just not possible. Look, kiss and have sexy times. It’s okay. Dad loves love; it’s allowed. Sexy times all around will make us all very happy, especially Sammy.”

What the  _hell_  had Gabriel been smoking while he was dead? Love? Sex?

“What?” He couldn’t stop himself from sounding like something was choking him.

“Kiss,” Gabriel repeated unrepentantly. “Have sex. Or I will haunt both your asses.”

With  _Castiel_?

Before Dean could demand that Gabriel explain himself further, the archangel fucking  _winked_  at him and vanished, revealing the office door opening to show a rather frightened Sam. After another moment, the welcome face of Kevin also popped into view.

Dean couldn’t even feel relieved at the knowledge that the kid was safe; he was still too pissed and confused and _embarrassed_  by what had just happened.

Clutching the now useless bone in his hand, Dean turned to Castiel. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

Pale-faced and completely bewildered, Sam blinked at the sight in the office. “What happened?”

“Gabriel,” Castiel said, meeting Dean’s eyes. “The answer to both your questions.”

Sam frowned. “I thought he was dead?”

“Uh, guys,” Kevin said, “can we get moving?”

“Not quite,” Castiel answered Sam.

“Asshole,” Dean muttered, glowering at Dick’s body for several seconds before he put the bone back in his jacket.

“There are still chompers in the building,” Kevin pleaded. “We should go.” He looked up at Sam. “We’ve still got to go to the lab and get rid of the creamer.”

“Creamer?” Dean asked, ignoring the displeased look Castiel sent his way.

“Kevin says they’re planning on killing all the skinny people,” Sam said.

“With creamer?”

“It’s poison,” Kevin said impatiently. “Come on – we need to go before the chompers—”

“Oh, they won’t be a problem,” Crowley’s voice said pleasantly. The demon stood directly behind Kevin and Sam. “I’ve got demons surrounding the entire facility.”

“Crowley,” Castiel said before Dean could.

Crowley looked rather surprised to see Dean and Castiel there. “Castiel. Dean.” His eyes dropped to the corpse on the floor, his face twisting in anger. “Idiots! I thought you were supposed to kill him!”

“Oh, he’s dead,” Dean said, relishing the opportunity to surprise the king of hell. “Kinda hard not to be after an archangel smites you.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. You didn’t know? Gabriel dropped by – Gabriel the archangel – and finished the job.”

“That’s…” Crowley’s eyes widened at the same time Castiel inhaled sharply. “No.”

“What?” Sam asked, arm coming up protectively in front of Kevin.

“The Leviathans,” Castiel said, meeting Dean’s eyes. “They’re gone. All of them.”

“Just like that?” Dean couldn’t believe it. No job had ever been this easy.

“Gabriel…” Castiel stopped, eyes flickering back to Crowley.

“Well…” Crowley’s tone was carefully even. “I wouldn’t have thought it true.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“The archangels as keys,” Crowley said. “Keys to purgatory. The bastard actually did it.”

“Take care how you refer to him,” Castiel snapped.

“Ooh.” Crowley seemed wryly amused. “Or you’ll do what?”

Castiel rolled his shoulders. “I will put you back where you belong.”

“You think you can do that?” Crowley scoffed, dismissing Castiel with a roll of his eyes. He looked at Kevin. “The prophet’s coming with me.”

“Like hell he will,” Dean snarled.

“Oh, sorry, did I give you an option?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and two demons appeared besides Sam and Kevin.

Castiel threw up a hand, and the two demons hit the wall. “You will not take him.”

Crowley’s hand hovered in the air, almost as if he was considering another finger snap. He looked surprised. “Oh. Playing with a full hand again, are we?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s fingers curled in slightly, and the two demons groaned as they slid down the wall. “Would you like to see it?”

“Hm.” Crowley pretended to consider it for all of a second before he shrugged. “No thanks.” He let his hand drop to his side, turning more fully to Kevin and Sam. “But if it’s all the same to you—”

Castiel appeared directly before Crowley, staring him down. “You’re not taking him.” His voice was firm.

Crowley glared. “You  _owe_  me!”

“And that’s why you’re not dead,” Castiel said. “Leave, Crowley, before I change my mind.”

His jaw tight, Crowley glanced around the room once with dark eyes before he disappeared, taking his two lackeys with him.

 Castiel didn’t move for several seconds. Then he slumped slightly, closing his eyes.

“Oh my God,” Kevin choked out, clutching Sam’s arm.

“You’re good,” Sam said, his other hand patting Kevin’s in reassurance. “Dean?”

“Just peachy,” Dean said. “Where’s Gabriel? I have a bone to pick with him.”

Castiel looked at his feet. “He’s gone.”

“So call him back!”

“No, I mean he’s  _gone_. I can’t hear him anywhere. Even his presence is gone.” Castiel’s gaze flicked up to the ceiling and the devil’s trap on it. “I felt him as he passed through the world, cleansing it of Leviathans, but he’s no longer here.”

“You mean he’s dead?” Sam asked.

“I doubt it,” Castiel said. “But I think he went back to where he came from, taking the Leviathans with him.”

“Too late if you ask me,” Dean said, glaring down at Dick’s corpse. “Where was he before?”

“I don’t know.”

“Much as I’d like to know more,” Sam interrupted, “we need to go. This place isn’t safe – Leviathan or no.”

“The lab,” Kevin reminded him.

“But first we’ll blow up the lab,” Sam conceded.

“There’s no need for that,” Castiel said. “Can you show me?”

Dean and Sam stared at him. There wasn’t a hint of insanity in the angel’s face; he looked…calm. Implacable. Just like he used to look like before being dragged into all things Winchester. But he also seemed looser, not at all like the first time Dean had ever seen him in an old barn house.

“Yeah,” Sam said eventually, sharing a quick glance with Dean. “Dean?”

“I’ll take Kevin and get the Impala,” Dean said. “Meet you in ten?”

“Five,” Castiel said, walking over to Sam.

With a rustle of feathers, Castiel and Sam were gone, leaving Dean and Kevin alone in a room with a dead Leviathan.

“Okay,” Dean said, brushing past Kevin. “Let’s go.”

Kevin shot Dick’s body one last look. “Y-yeah.”

* * *

With Kevin sitting in the back row of the Impala, that left Dean free to lean against the driver’s door and think back to what Gabriel had said before taking off.

He knew he could be emotionally dense. He didn’t do too well with emotional conversations, although he could muddle his way through one if it was needed. Sometimes he’d let the ball drop  _because_  he wasn’t good with emotions; what had happened with Castiel was proof enough. He’d known something was wrong; he’d  _known_.

And yet he’d done nothing. And that had led to the current cluster fuck that had only now been partly resolved. Even with the Leviathans gone, that left a heaven in shreds and Crowley on the loose.

Gabriel had swooped in to save their asses, and left them all with nothing more than cryptic bullshit that had Dean want to tear his hair out.

He and Castiel were friends.  _Friends_.

So why had Gabriel insinuated that they should kiss and have sex?

Dean hunched his shoulders, sighing in aggravation.

And Castiel. Castiel who hadn’t wanted to fight but ended up doing so anyway. Castiel who had taken a stand against Crowley and then gone with Sam to blow up a lab. Castiel who had done so much for Dean, and what had he gotten in return?

A dollop of insanity. And so much more.

“It’s done,” Sam’s voice said, catching Dean’s attention.

He lifted his head, eyes focusing on Castiel and Sam standing right in front of him. He was vaguely amazed that he hadn’t heard their arrival, silently reprimanding himself for the lapse. If it had been anyone else, he could be dead right now.

“I didn’t hear any explosions,” Dean said, pushing himself off his car.

“There weren’t any. Cas did something and everything just vanished.”

Dean shot Castiel a look. “You’re good now? No…urges to go and frolic among the bees?”

Castiel didn’t even look embarrassed. “Gabriel healed me. I feel…” He tilted his head to the side, eyes vaguely unfocused for a few seconds. Then they cleared, refocusing on Dean’s with a laser intent that had a shiver running down his spine. “I feel like new.”

Sam looked between the two, eyebrows raising. “Okay… I’m assuming there’s a story behind what’s going on here, and I’m going to demand to hear it as soon as we’re somewhere completely safe and not on Leviathan grounds.”

“There are no Leviathans anymore,” Castiel said.

“Still,” Sam said, opening his door.

Dean opened his side, looking back at Castiel. “Are you coming?”

There was no answer, just a rustle of wings before Castiel popped up in the back row next to a startled Kevin, who jumped.

“Can you give a little warning next time?” Kevin asked, rather high-pitched.

“My apologies.” Castiel didn’t sound very sorry.

Exhaling slowly, Dean closed his eyes, mentally counted to three, and got in, starting the car.

He could already feel Castiel’s eyes boring a figurative hole in the back of his head, and Sam’s burning curiosity was palpable despite the way his brother was staring out the window at the green scenery.

This was going to be a long drive.

And Meg had completely trashed his car.

* * *

They stopped in a dingy motel that was far away enough from Sucrocorp that they felt relatively safe sleeping there with the standard protections. Castiel followed Dean to the front desk when he checked in, ignoring the stares Sam and Kevin shot their way.

By the time Dean had the motel key, he’d had enough. He went and dragged Castiel to a private corner where they could talk in private.

This was something he didn’t want Sam or Kevin to hear, and it needed to be taken care of now. Castiel had been staring unblinkingly at the back of his head the entire way, and even checking into the motel hadn’t stopped him.

It would’ve been creepy if Dean hadn’t been used to it by now.

“Cas…” Dean shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “About what he said back there…do you know what he meant?”

Castiel’s eyes skimmed over Dean’s face. His lips parted a hair’s breadth before he sighed lightly, glancing off to the side. He seemed to steel himself before returning to meet Dean’s gaze. “Everything I’ve done,” he started slowly, “has been for you.”

Dean waited, but that seemed to be it. “Cas, we’re grateful—”

“No, Dean. I did it for  _you_.” Castiel was strangely insistent. “Not for your brother. Not for humanity. For  _you_.” His eyes were unusually piercing. “I’ve made mistakes, and I hope that one day you can forgive me for them. But I did it to protect you.”

Castiel shifted, one arm twitching as if he wanted to reach out before he stilled. “You’ve gone through much because of us,” he continued softly. “I wanted to spare you further pain.”

“Bang up job of that,” Dean said unthinkingly.

Castiel didn’t flinch. “I know. And I’m sorry for that.”

Dean refused to feel sorry for what he’d just said. “What does that have to do with what Gabriel said?”

“Everything.”

Dean knew he looked confused now. “What?”

“I’ve blasphemed,” Castiel said, glancing off to the side again.

Dean snorted. “No way. He brings you back, doesn’t he?”

“It’s a punishment resurrection,” Castiel said, echoing his earlier words. “To fix what I’ve done wrong…” He looked back at Dean. “Our last orders from our Father were to love and cherish humanity as a whole. And I’ve failed.”

“No, Cas.” Dean reached out to touch Castiel’s shoulder, hesitating at the last moment. “You care the  _most_ —”

“Because of you,” Castiel interrupted. “Because you care. That is why. And that’s why I’ve failed. You’re my priority, Dean. Not the Earth, not heaven, and not the rest of humanity. You.”

Dean’s hand dropped to his side as he stared at Castiel, stunned.

“So you see,” Castiel continued quietly, “this has everything to do with what Gabriel said. He could see it all.” He studied Dean’s gobsmacked visage for a moment longer. Then, sighing, he said, “I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’ll leave.”

The words had Dean snap back to himself. He jerked forward to try and restrain Castiel – stop him from leaving – but the angel was already gone.

“Damn it!” Dean clenched his hands into fists, spinning around to march back into public and meet up with Sam and Kevin. Castiel was gone, and he wouldn’t come back even if Dean prayed. He’d have to give it some time before he could call him back.

And he was going to. Where did Castiel get off, dropping a bomb like that and leaving?

Sam looked rather taken aback at the fierce expression Dean sported. “Dean?”

“Inside,” Dean snapped, pulling out the key the manager had given him.

Thankfully neither Sam nor Kevin questioned him, and when they entered the dreary room, Kevin holed himself up in the bathroom, muttering something about scrubbing himself down with bleach.

Sam dumped their luggage on one of the beds and gave Dean a stern look. “Where’s Cas?”

Dean flung his jacket over an ugly armchair. “Flitted off.”

“Just like that?”

“No, I banished him,” Dean snapped without thinking. “Jeez, Sam, what do you think?”

“Whoa.” Sam frowned, putting up his hands placatingly. “Calm down. It was just a question.”

Dean huffed, apologetic but not enough to actually verbalize it.

Sam exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. “What happened?” he asked. “Back there with Dick.”

“Shit happened, that’s what.” Dean sat down heavily on a bed, rubbing his face.

“You said Gabriel showed up?”

“Popped up out of nowhere,” Dean said, gesturing emphatically with his hands. “Nicked something out of Dick’s safe and killed the bastard. Then he healed Cas, spouted some cryptic bullshit about love and sex, and poofed off.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “That’s…pretty tame. He seriously talked about love and sex?”

“ _Yes_.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before letting his hand drop to between his knees.

“In regards to Cas?” Sam asked slowly.

Dean’s head snapped up. “What makes you say that?”

“You and Cas looked pretty awkward back there, and you just went and talked with him in private now. And since Cas isn’t here anymore, I assume something went wrong.” Sam gave a big shrug.

_“Everything I’ve done has been for you.”_

“Maybe,” Dean muttered, rubbing the back of his index finger against his forehead.

Sam sat down next to Dean, the weight of his body causing the saggy bed to groan in protest. He gave the bed a dubious look, but refocused on Dean. “You…want to talk about it?” The tone of his voice clearly suggested what he thought Dean would say to that.

“No,” Dean grunted, face hidden by his hand.

Sam huffed out a soft laugh, looking down at his knees. “You know,” he said oh-so-casually, “the sexual tension between you two is seriously killing me.”

Dean pulled his face away from his hand, turning to give Sam a disbelieving stare.

“I just didn’t want to say anything,” Sam continued, “but I guess Gabriel got sick of it, too.”

“ _What_  sexual tension?” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas?” Sam gave Dean a meaningful look. “I swear, you could cut it with a knife.”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Dean pointed out sharply.

“Hence the sexual tension.”

“No, I mean there’s  _nothing_.”

“Come on, Dean,” Sam said. “I may have been soulless for a while there, but that doesn’t mean I was blind. And even a blind man could’ve seen how Castiel thinks about you.”

_“You’re my priority, Dean. Not the Earth, not heaven, and not the rest of humanity. You.”_

Dean’s throat was dry. “And how’s that?”

Sam had a wistful smile on his face. “I think you know, Dean.” He rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder, gently squeezing. “I think you’ve always known.”

The shock and horror the first time Castiel had died. The utter relief upon seeing that he was  _alive_. The grief and terror of the second time he’d exploded into blood and bits, compounded by the disappearance of Sam and Bobby’s temporary death. The relief when Castiel had come back, only to be wiped out because there had been no contact for a goddamn  _year_.

_“I wanted to spare you further pain.”_

The utter betrayal upon learning what Castiel had been doing during the civil war in heaven. The shock and grief upon seeing a mass of black writhing beneath the once calm surface of a lake. The numbness that settled in upon finding the soaked trench coat.

And the sweet, sweet relief upon finding Castiel again, even if it hadn’t truly been  _Castiel_  because he’d had no memories.

_“No, you seriously can’t be this dense. It’s just not possible.”_

“Dean?” Sam asked softly.

“Yeah.” Dean’s answer was distracted. He brushed a thumb over his lips.

“Okay.” Sam’s weight left the bed, and there was a relieved groaning of springs, even though the depression left by his weight didn’t disappear.

Sam glanced rather warily at the other bed in the room. “I’m gonna check on Kevin, make sure he hasn’t drowned or something.”

Dean didn’t respond, too lost in his thoughts. His hands were pressed together in front of his face, his thumbs on the bridge of his nose.

He needed…

_Castiel…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?
> 
> Don't expect any updates to this in the near future (unless it's prompted and it'll be bumped up on my to-do list...) because I must first watch Season 8 to even have an idea of where to begin, and before that I have to finish up Season 4 and get into 5, 6, and 7. That's with school and studying to do.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed it! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say not to expect fast updates for this, right? Because that still stands even now. I just wrote this up sometime last week. I've still to watch the rest of _Supernatural_ , and I will need to for the rest of this story.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :) Please let me know what you think!

Castiel didn’t come the first time Dean prayed, not that he’d expected him to. But at least the offer was there, and now all Dean could do was wait. He wasn’t going to sound like one of those desperate housewives who was constantly calling after an absent husband.

And damn Gabriel for even putting such a thought in his head in the first place.

When Sam returned from checking up on Kevin, he gave Dean a curious look that Dean pointedly ignored in favor of pulling out his saw and checking it for nonexistent flaws.

The silence between the brothers was only broken when Kevin emerged from the bathroom, glancing in trepidation between them. “Are we sharing beds?” he asked.

Sam shot the bed Dean wasn’t sitting on a wary look. “No.”

“Okay.” Kevin waited for a bit, eyes coming to rest on Dean, who was now rubbing over his saw with a cloth. “So how are we doing this?”

“You know what,” Sam said brightly, “that’s an  _excellent_  question.” His cheery tone had Dean looking up in mild alarm. “I’m going to get another room.”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“Dean,” Sam mimicked his voice. What he said next was spoken in a normal tone: “Seriously. There’re only two beds here, and I’m not trying the couch.”

“The kid can sleep on it.”

“I’m not a kid,” Kevin protested.

Sam grabbed his jacket. “Getting another room, Dean. I’ll stay with Kevin. You talk with Cas when he comes back.”

Dean shot him a pointed look, not at all happy at Sam’s presumption. Sam returned Dean’s look with a bitch face, quirking his eyebrows in such a manner that told Dean exactly what he should be doing when Castiel returned. Which was talk.

Sighing in aggravation, Dean threw down his cleaning cloth next to him, waving Sam and Kevin off.

The last thing he heard was Kevin asking before the door closed behind them, “What’s up with them?”

Sam’s response was muffled but still clear. “You don’t want to know.”

Dean barely resisted the urge to throw something across the room in a fit of pique. He instead opted for the wiser choice of turning the TV on and checking the news.

Five minutes later found him wishing he hadn’t done so.

Whatever Gabriel had done had hit the regular community hard. They were aware something was up. Hundreds of high ranking officials disappearing from right under their noses would do that.

Was this what Gabriel had meant by Dean being able to handle the cleanup? He  _was_  aware that Dean and Sam were still wanted by the government, wasn’t he? There was no way they could walk up to someone and offer a truthful explanation without being labeled crazy and thrown in an asylum.

Clicking the TV off with a disgusted sigh, Dean turned his attention to his weapons. One could never be too prepared.

But even as his hands ran through the familiar motions of cleaning and checking his guns and knives, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel. Castiel and Gabriel’s words.

Gabriel had insisted that the two should have sex. That was one thing Dean could remember very clearly. He’d also blabbered about love and haunting their asses if they didn’t confess.

And Castiel… Castiel had…

_“Everything I’ve done has been for you.”_

Which didn’t make any sense. Didn’t make any sense  _at all_. Why would Castiel do it for  _him_?

Dean had thought Castiel did it because he didn’t agree with his family. Because he saw a different plan than the rest of his dickish siblings. But apparently not.

Hiding the civil war in heaven, collaborating with Crowley, opening  _purgatory_ … All of that had been for  _Dean_?

_“I wanted to spare you further pain.”_

Bang up job of  _that_.

Dean’s fingers tightened around his gun as he remembered what he’d said to Castiel, and how the angel had left shortly afterward without letting Dean say anything.

Which had probably been the wiser choice. Dean wouldn’t have been able to say anything nice at that point. In fact, he probably still couldn’t.

Shooting a look out the window and seeing nothing out there that could possibly catch his interest, Dean returned his focus to his weapons.

Still, he couldn’t keep out Castiel’s haunting words.

_“Everything I’ve done has been for you.”_

* * *

 The bed was really uncomfortable. Springs poked him in the back, and the damn thing creaked threateningly whenever he rolled over.

And Castiel still hadn’t shown his face.

Not that the bed and Castiel had anything to do with each other, but it was the principle of the matter.

Sam and Kevin had dropped by in the evening with food that was guaranteed not to contain anything the Leviathans had cooked up. Then they’d left again, Sam giving Dean a pointed look he again ignored because he’d already prayed, so that meant the ball was in Castiel’s court and all he could do was wait.

So wait he did. Even though he’d rather sleep because there were so many things he’d have to take care of now that the Leviathans were gone and the world was in panicked disarray.

But he couldn’t because of the damn bed and the fact that Castiel still  _wasn’t here_.

The sound of wings filled the room, and Castiel was suddenly there, a dark figure at Dean’s bedside.

Dean pushed himself upright, relief sweeping through him. He had to fight to keep it out of his voice. “Cas.”

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was deeply reassuring. He studied Dean for a few seconds before taking a seat on the bed.

The mattress groaned loudly, springs popping under Castiel’s unexpected weight.

Castiel paused, frowning as he looked down at the mattress. He pressed down on it with a hand, drawing it away with a perturbed look when several more springs collapsed.

“This is a terrible mattress,” Castiel said, looking up at Dean with a frown.

“I’ve had worse,” Dean said truthfully. Admittedly, it had been the floor, but it was still worse than the bed. Especially when nursing broken bones from a particularly zealous ghost.

Castiel looked rather like he doubted this but said nothing. He folded his hands in his lap and turned as still as a statue. Dean resisted the urge to poke him, remembering what Gabriel had said.

He did stare at the side of Castiel’s head, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

But Castiel seemed perfectly content to let the awkward silence between the two stretch out.

Fidgeting nervously, Dean couldn’t stand it anymore. “You came,” he blurted.

Castiel turned to him, looking rather perplexed. “You called.”

Dean didn’t point out that praying to Castiel wasn’t always a guarantee he’d come. “Yeah, well, you flitted off so quickly I couldn’t even say anything,” he said crossly.

Castiel was silent for a few moments. “I wanted to give you some time.”

Dean refused to agree that it had been a good idea. “Just don’t do it again.”

Castiel’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond.

Dean exhaled slowly, the sound loud in the silence of the room. “Cas…I don’t understand.”

Castiel stared at him, blue eyes imperceptible. “What don’t you?” he finally asked.

 _You_ , Dean wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, he said, “Why me?”

Castiel sighed, the sound faintly exasperated. “Dean. Is it so hard to understand?”

Dean didn’t give him the obvious answer, that yes it was.

Castiel understood it anyway. “Do you remember when we first met?”

Dean frowned, unsure of the non sequitur. “I stabbed you in the chest.”

“Yes, you did.” Castiel gave a small, amused smile. “But I was referring to the part where I said you believed you didn’t deserve to be saved.”

Dean remembered. “So?”

“You still believe it even now, don’t you?”

Dean looked at Castiel, mouth dry. “A Righteous Man is only righteous if he doesn’t turn,” he said eventually. “If you hadn’t pulled me out, the apocalypse wouldn’t have started.”

“You were the Righteous Man because you sold your soul for your brother. You were chosen because of the life you lead. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been another,” Castiel said, the words soft. “You can’t blame yourself for that, Dean. Lay the blame where it belongs: with my brothers and hell.”

“I shed blood,” Dean bit out. “Thirty years and I broke. Dad didn’t break.”

“Your father led a different life,” Castiel said. “One that gave him the strength to resist. One that you didn’t have.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Why you?” Now Castiel sounded slightly…lost. “Dean…you…” His hand moved, almost as if he was going to reach out to Dean, but then it dropped to the bed, fingers curling in the covers. “You light the world up,” he continued softly. “When I look at you…” His lips parted on an exhale. “I see why my Father created humanity.”

Because of someone who could never do anything right?

“You try so hard, Dean,” Castiel continued quietly. “And you believe.”

The words came out before Dean could stop them. “I mess things up.”

“As do I.” Castiel gave a wry smile. “We all do. That characteristic isn’t just human.”

“Cas…” Dean clenched his hand into a fist. “You shouldn’t… I’m not worth it.”

Castiel’s response startled Dean. He lunged forward, a hand grabbing hold of Dean’s and holding on tightly. “Don’t ever say that again,” he said fiercely, eyes burning. “Don’t dare disparage yourself like that again. You  _are_  worth it, Dean. You’re worth  _everything_. That you can’t see it is something grieves me.”

Castiel looked down at their clasped hands. “You’ve forgiven Sam for much,” he noted in a calmer tone. “You’ve forgiven me for betraying your trust. Why can’t you forgive yourself?”

“Because that’s different,” Dean said, desperately wanting to jerk his hand away while also wanting to intertwine his fingers with Castiel’s. Instead of doing either, he kept still. “Sam was just trying to do the right thing. So were you.”

“And what were you doing?” Castiel asked pointedly. “Doing the wrong thing?”

“I fuck things up!” Dean snapped. “I can’t do the job properly. I can’t even protect Sam!”

“Sam is a grown man,” Castiel said. “He is capable of making his own decisions. Just as you make your own.” He leaned forward into Dean’s personal space, fiercely intense. “The world isn’t your weight to bear, Dean. Please…let me help.” His grasp on Dean’s hand tightened.

“Cas…” The word was hoarse.

“You asked why,” Castiel said. “I do it because you are who you are. You are everything, Dean.”

“How can you…” Dean swallowed, looking away from those intense eyes. “I’m just me,” he said quietly.

Castiel’s gentle fingers turned his face so they locked eyes. “And that’s why.”

Dean’s hand twitched under Castiel’s. The room felt simultaneously too small and too large, and he found it difficult to breathe.

An angel had just given him something tantamount to a love confession. And Dean had no idea how to respond.

He was… He didn’t…

“I don’t expect you to feel the same,” Castiel said gently, letting his fingers drop from Dean’s cheek. “It was something I hadn’t intended on telling you at all, but Gabriel forced my hand.”

“Because it’s so bad to”— _love_ —“feel for a human?”

“Because I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Castiel finally let Dean’s hand go; it felt cold. “I do this because I want to, not because I expect anything in return.”

Dean’s fingers curled in tightly in the bedcovers. His hand felt cold without Castiel’s warmth, and it took Dean all of a second to reach out and touch the top of Castiel’s hand with two fingers.

The gesture had Castiel look up at Dean in surprise, lips parting on a surprised exhale that could almost have been Dean’s name.

“I can’t give you an answer now,” Dean admitted quietly. “But…Gabriel wasn’t wrong.”

Castiel’s eyes widened slightly. “Dean?”

“Later, I promise,” Dean said. “But…can you hang around? Don’t…” The words stuck in his throat, and it took several tries for him to get them out. “Don’t go.” They were a mere whisper.

Castiel’s response, when it came, was just as quiet. “I won’t.”

And Dean breathed.

* * *

The next morning they met Sam and Kevin by the Impala. Sam had this small knowing smirk on his face as Dean and Castiel walked up. Kevin just looked like he didn’t know what he should believe.

“Worked things out?” Sam asked, grinning.

Dean didn’t rise to the bait, simply quirking an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

Kevin looked vaguely disbelieving. “So are you two like together now?”

Dean shot Sam a look that his brother only grinned in response to. “No.”

Sam squinted slightly. “But you worked things out?”

“ _Yes_.” Dean threw his bag at Sam, who caught it on reflex. “Get in the car. We’ve got places to be.”

“Can I go back?” Kevin asked plaintively.

“We’ll see,” Dean replied evenly, sharing a glance with Sam. Kevin was a prophet; they couldn’t just drop him off somewhere, especially considering what was happening right now.

Kevin slumped slightly, evidently understanding exactly what Dean wasn’t saying. He didn’t protest, just sliding into the back of the Impala and slouching against a window.

Sam’s eyes flicked between Dean and Castiel, but he did nothing beyond a small shake of his head. Then he opened the door and ducked inside.

Dean braced a hand on the top of the Impala, looking back at Castiel. “Cas?”

Castiel smiled, the movement no more than a small quirk. “I said I wouldn’t go.”

A small helpless grin pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah. You did.” And, still smiling, he got into the Impala.

Kevin didn’t move when Castiel took his seat next to him, but Sam looked at Dean knowingly.

“Just a talk?” he asked wryly.

Dean couldn’t resist a smirk. “Is it any of your business?”

Sam let out a short laugh. “No.  _No_. You’re keeping that to yourself.”

Dean gave him a shit-eating grin, starting the engine. “Your loss.”

“No, not really.”

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked, sounding utterly unperturbed.

Dean met his blue eyes in the mirror. “Somewhere safe.”

Somewhere they could figure out their next move. Somewhere where Dean could get his head straight and decide just what he wanted.

Because Castiel’s wasn’t the only hand Gabriel had forced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel was gone for a lot longer than Dean thinks, and he had a lot of time to think about what he should say to convince Dean of his feelings. As for Dean...well...it'll be a little bit longer.
> 
> Poor Sam will just have to continue to deal with that UST for a while longer. And Kevin, too, for now.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I hope you enjoyed it.


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